The River

Before the weary pilgrim, flowed a river fair and wide The way was filled with danger, he couldn't cross the other side; So the pilgrim sought another to be his expert guide With a boat that could take him through the surging tide. The sailor man was strong and he steered the boat so well Or did the river bear the boat? It was so hard to tell; The sailor told the pilgrim of the signs that he might seek Of the secrets of the river and the message it would speak. Then the pilgrim felt the peace so he listened and he heard The murmer of the river and sighs of whispered word; He heard the river laugh and then he heard it cry And the pilgrim heard the message as sad tears filled his eye. He heard the drums of war in the torrent of the rain And the awful cries of anguish that he never could explain; Was there a reason for the crossing, or where the river ran Was there another reason for the journey of this man? He heard the sounds of death, he heard the sounds of mirth But nothing that he heard gave tribute to the earth; The sounds were fused together till they reached a common goal And the quiver of his heartbeat found a cadence in his soul. The river lost its birthplace and embraced the open sea And the pilgrim gave his thanks on reverent bended knee He opened up his eyes as the sunrise slowly died But the sailor man had gone and the boat rocked on the tide. The river filled his veins till the two at last were one While the tide rolled on forever and earth went round the sun; The pilgrim was the river and the boat and sailor man Were the journey of the song, the singing river sang. This is my adaptation of "The Ferryman" by Herman Hesse